


The Lost Boy

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Community: 12_daysofficmas, Community: fma_fic_contest, Gen, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-14 13:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward and Alphonse had a life on Earth after they closed the Gate back to Amestris.  These are stories of those lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winry

**Author's Note:**

> I have read a few different thoughts on Ed's relationship with our world. These are some thoughts I've had regarding it, over a series of years, literally.

X X X

The telegram was simple and succinct, two words and a name, and enough to make Edward Elric stop in his tracks, halfway across India, and go back the way he'd came. It took him nearly a month to get back to the United States, thanks to the transport system of trains and boats and automobiles, and finally, he stood in front of a brick house, ivy climbing the walls, a taxi driving away. Gathering up his suitcase, Edward strode up the walk, climbed the steps and rapped on the door, the automail making the wood boom.

It didn't take long for someone to come to the door and Alphonse appeared in the frame of wood like an assistant in a magician's trick, a bigger smile wreathing his face than Edward could ever remember seeing. His brother swept him into a tight hug, pounding his back, the words, "Welcome home!" bubbling over in greeting.

"Al, Al, you're choking me!" Edward managed to wriggle out of his brother's hug though his grin belied the words he used. He glanced beyond the foyer of the house then back at Al. "So?"

"Come in," Al grabbed his arm, hauling Edward into the house, closing the door behind them. He babbled the entire time he led Edward up the stairs, down the hall and to a brightly painted room, one holding a pretty young woman who in turn, held a bundle of blankets. "Janet, honey," Al said, his voice lowering but still excited, "look who's here."

Janet smiled a welcome at Edward, her own words carrying a crooning tone to them. "And she's awake, too, so she can meet her Uncle Edward." Rising to her feet, Janet seemed to waltz across the floor, the autumn sunlight stroking her form from behind, limning it and making her appear luminous. For a second, Edward had to blink his eyes, remembering another time, another woman, another baby; then the scene resolved itself again and Alphonse stood with an arm around his wife, beaming that proud, beautiful smile.

Janet lifted their daughter, peeling back a little bit of blanket to show Edward a round face and pudgy, waving hands. "Look, Winry, it's your Uncle Edward."

He couldn't help the look that he gave Alphonse, but he schooled it away before the proud parents noticed. Edward made the appropriate noises about how beautiful she was, when he really thought she looked somewhat doughy and unfinished, and managed to escape to his room soon after, feigning (but not really) exhaustion.

It was well after midnight when Edward woke, bleary eyes blinking, flesh hand massaging them lightly and wiping away sleep. He could hear the soft sound of a baby crying and shook his head, chasing the last of the dreams from his brain. Getting out of bed, he rumpled his hair, tugged at his vest and shirt, and wandered out into the hall to see Alphonse pacing the length of it, making shushing sounds and bouncing his daughter in his arms.

Al paused to give Edward a wry smile. "Sorry we woke you up."

Edward waved off the apology, thinking the baby sounded more like an upset kitten than anything. "How often does this happen?" he asked around a yawn.

"She's usually a good baby." Al jiggled her, nuzzling her fine, dark hair. "Aren't you, precious?" He rolled his eyes to Edward. "I'm sure you don't believe me."

Unable to help himself, Edward mumbled, "Not if she takes after her namesake," only to get a grunt of irritation from his brother.

Winry quieted down with a little hiccupping sound and, even in the dim light, Edward could see her eyes glinting at him. As if Alphonse realized it at the same time, he said, "You should hold her," and before Edward could protest that thought, he had an armful of baby. "There, now," Alphonse sounded wickedly satisfied, "support her head, yes, like that, and you're doing it, Brother!"

Edward rolled his eyes in irritation. "You just want her to spit up on me, I know," and didn't bother hiding his disgust when Al giggled and nodded. Winry made a little sound and Edward turned his attention to her, alarmed. She made it again, one chubby hand waving up to strike his chin.

Edward swallowed hard, blinking and Alphonse, all too attuned to his brother's moods, asked gently, "What is it, Brother?"

"I just wonder," he whispered, searching the baby's face for an answer he knew he'd never get, "if she'd name her sons after us."

X X X


	2. Traveler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed still goes traveling.

X X X

The world they lived in had diminished in the time since they'd first arrived, Alphonse thought, what with intercontinental flights, bullet trains and news that could be broadcast from almost anywhere. Gone were the telegrams his brother had sent him from the far corners of the earth, little succinct messages, still written in the code they'd designed together when they were kids. Now, when Edward wanted Alphonse to know something, he rang him up on the telephone from anywhere in the world.

Alphonse understood his brother's wanderlust; why it would never quite be slaked. He didn't envy Edward his travels that took him away, though Ed had at least come to some sort of peace with himself, somewhere during his solitary trips. Alphonse's family teased 'Uncle Edward' that he needed to settle down and at least consider a family but he'd always show his teeth and wave his hands at Alphonse's brood, saying that there were plenty of Elrics in this world now and he certainly didn't need to stir up a hornet's nest making more.

It took many years, and a considerable amount of very good brandy – who knew that Edward was such an accomplished drinker? – before Alphonse found out for sure what he'd always suspected; namely that his brother's fear of being like their father had been exacerbated by the way they'd left Winry behind in Amestris. Edward allowed in that one conversation that he still missed her, even after more than a decade in this world, and he was afraid if he found another girl, he would wind up treating her the same way.

"But you were just a boy then," Alphonse had protested, even as he thought, finally, his brother was actually confessing to having feelings for their childhood friend. "You've grown up, Brother; you've matured. You're not going to fall in love and just leave a woman behind now."

The soft chuckle and headshake told Alphonse that Edward didn't believe that. "Look at me, Al. I can't stop moving. I don't stay in one place, not even with you, for very long. What wife would want that?" He cupped his chin in his right hand, drawing a doodle with the forefinger of his left. Without looking closely, Alphonse recognized the makings of a transmutation circle and would bet that, even as many years away from alchemy as Edward was, if there was a way to make it work here in this world, the transmutation would be perfect. "Besides," and here his smile became self-mocking, "I can't help myself, Al." Edward raised his head, the warmth in his eyes bittersweet and distant. "I look for her, wherever I go."

"Ed." Alphonse's voice was hushed, a faint whisper of a sound, as stark and sad as he thought his brother's life must be.

Edward waved him off. "Don't get maudlin on me, little brother. I'm content, sharing in your family." He adroitly turned the conversation to something else and Alphonse let him, knowing that there really was nothing more he could say.

X X X


	3. Sacrificed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse thinks on home (and Winry, and Edward).

“Do you want me to ask around for a date for Ed?” Janet asked Alphonse, who blinked at the question. His brother and women, always a touchy subject. He’d seen the looks Edward garnered, though the man himself was oblivious to all but the most aggressive flirts. Al wasn’t sure Ed even knew what to do with a woman, but someone had to have had the birds and bees talk at some point. “Al?”

He turned his attention back to Janet. “No, that’s all right.” It could be awkward, after all. Ed’s automail was another forbidden subject here in this world. While there were people fascinated by automail, none of them yet were women. Al figured Brother would tell him if he’d met one, sure to bring up a passing reference to…

Winry. Al wished he could fix the promise he’d broken. _We’ll be a team again._ He’d mentioned it to Brother once, only to have Ed say, “Winry’s safe.” He’d refused to say anything more on the subject, stomping off when Al would’ve pursued it. 

“Don’t you think he’s lonely?” 

Yes, Al almost said, but shook his head. Brother and he had sacrificed so much to be together again. One of those sacrifices was a beautiful, brilliant girl, who loved them both more than herself. She’d had no choice in the matter. Her loss haunted them both. Safety seemed a cold comfort when thinking of her tears, once she’d realized they were gone for good. 


	4. Lost Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward and Alphonse had a life after they wound up in Germany. Al's daughter remembers it all.

X X X

When Winry was younger, Uncle Edward was her favorite playmate. He knew all sorts of games and didn’t care that she was a girl and shouldn’t shoot marbles or play baseball or scream and run and wrestle. He said the girl she’d been named after did all of those things and more – why shouldn’t she?

So Mommy looked the other way when Uncle Edward and Daddy played with her, when they taught her about science and chemistry and read to her about medicine and Darwinism and all sorts of things girls probably shouldn’t have stuck their noses in. Tommy Madison tried to beat her up once ‘cause she was ‘too smart’ – but she gave him a bloody nose and a black eye instead and sent him running home to his mom, screaming and crying. Her mom had to pretend she wasn’t proud but Winry knew better.

Uncle Edward had laughed ‘til he cried when he heard the story and, giving a tousle of her hair, told her it was a good thing she hadn’t had a wrench.

Daddy told Uncle Edward not to be so encouraging but he’d smiled when he’d said it.

X X X

When she was older, science and chemistry and learning to fix things wasn’t quite as important. The other girls laughed at her when she had dirt under her nails from digging in the garden and made fun of her for the freckles dotting her cheeks and arms. Being laughed at hurt, more than she liked to admit. Winry still helped with the garden and still read the books her uncle brought her from his travels, but she wanted to have friends, too; friends who were her own age.

Charlie, at least, thought she was wonderful, and she returned the sentiment. And he wasn’t scared of Uncle Edward or Daddy, even after seeing them sparring in the yard. He listened to their stories with wide-eyed wonder, and told her in confidence he wanted to be as great a man as her relatives.

When he said he loved her, well, at least she knew he meant it.

X X X

She and Charlie had three boys: Charles IV, Alphonse and Edward. Joan almost seemed like an afterthought, coming five years after Eddie’s birth. She took after her own daddy with his light blond, wavy hair but her eyes were rich blue. The boys all had brown eyes and dark hair, like their mother and grandmother, so Joannie’s coloring was a surprise.

Uncle Edward taught Joannie the same way he’d taught Winry herself; reading to her from scientific magazines and books, filling her head with things that no girl should know. And Winry loved him for it.

X X X

Joannie had a streak of romanticism in her, something Winry never quite understood. She didn’t have the same stocky build as the other children; instead, she was a waif-like creature, prone to flitting about. Charlie called her ‘Tinker Bell’, after the character in Mr. Barry’s book – her favorite. She’d like a chapter read to her each night before bed, thank you.

Even Uncle Edward got into it, though he said Mr. Barry’s book was nonsense and better for Joannie to learn rather than dream. He always said it with a bittersweet smile on his face, though, and would read about Neverland to Joannie until she fell asleep.

X X X

As Joannie grew older, as all little girls must, she had questions Winry couldn’t answer. Who’d made Uncle Edward’s arm and leg? Why wasn’t he married? Why did he vanish for weeks – sometimes months – once a year – on end? Did he have another family hidden away?

When Winry couldn’t really answer, Joannie had nodded, folding her arms, her mouth pouting. “He’s a lost boy. He’s looking for a way to get back to Neverland and his Wendy.”

“Wendy didn’t stay in Neverland, darling.”

“Maybe she did for Uncle Edward.”

And Winry had nothing to say to that logic.

X X X

Winry broached Joannie’s questions about Uncle Edward, and his life, to Daddy. Daddy had smiled, and stared off into the distance, and said something that practical Winry couldn’t understand – that his brother was a wandering soul, with dreams in his heart that wouldn’t - couldn’t – ever come true. Daddy had turned to her then, still grinning. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep searching for them.”

“Joannie thinks he’s like Peter Pan.”

Daddy had laughed at that, shaking his head, though Winry caught a glimpse of an expression she’d only seen rarely in her father’s eyes. “Ed grew up a long time ago. That’s the difference.”

X X X

As Joannie grew up, Uncle Edward grew older, silver streaking through the gold strands of his hair. By the time she was married, to a man with a square face, blond hair and eyes nearly as blue as hers, Uncle Edward’s hair was nearly white. Chas had the first great-great grandchild; a little boy named after him, his father, his grandfather and his great-grandfather. Alfie had the second, another little boy, David. Eddie was killed in the war, leaving behind a fiancée and a grieving family. Joannie thought she’d name her baby after him.

The little girl was a surprise, and born with hair as pale as cornsilk. Her eyes remained as blue as the sky. Joannie and Richard named her Edy, and she was only a few months younger than David. It didn’t seem long before she was crawling, then walking, then chasing after her cousins. The three of them were practically inseparable, more like siblings than cousins. Daddy and Uncle Edward doted on the three of them, like they had all the kids since Winry’s birth.

But Winry couldn’t help but notice both her Daddy and her uncle’s eyes following little Edy’s form as she raced around, and wonder at the peculiar, wistful expressions in their gazes.

X X X

When Edy was four, Uncle Edward went on another one of his trips. It wasn’t supposed to be for long, but he’d been gone for over a month before Daddy got word Uncle Edward was in a hospital in London. No one across the pond could really explain what happened but Daddy got the first flight out. Winry offered to go but Joannie was the one Daddy asked to take him.

It was hard to wait, so very hard. Uncle Edward was timeless. Sure, his hair turned white, and maybe he was a little slower – just a little – but he was still so smart! And they didn’t really know what had happened so they could only guess, and that made it so much worse.

When Joannie finally called, the news wasn’t good. Her voice cracked and wavered. “Uncle Edward isn’t coming home with us, Mom.”

X X X

Charlie thought Uncle Edward should’ve had a Viking funeral but, as appealing as that was to the younger men, Daddy won out. The ceremony would take place in the graveyard, as Uncle Edward had always said God didn’t want him inside a church and he was fine with that. It was probably bad enough that he went into sanctified ground, Mommy said, with only a hint of a sigh in her voice.

The day was beautiful, just a faint hint of fall’s crispness in the air. The leaves were still on the trees, brilliant with riotous colors. More people than Winry had ever expected showed up for the funeral – people from all over the world had been calling the house and sending notes and cards and flowers. Mommy and Daddy could barely keep up with it all, so Winry had taken over the thank yous. Still, to see so many people gathered around the gravesite surprised her. How did her irascible Uncle Edward get so many friends? If they’d let everyone speak who’d wanted to, they would’ve been in the cemetery all day.

As it as, a few people did talk; a professor from London, a man who’d traveled with Uncle Edward to Rome. Joannie read a letter from a woman in Cairo that they’d had to censor parts from, as it would have made even adults blush.

Daddy got up last to speak, a book in his hand. He talked about how Uncle Edward was a good man; that he’d met most of the people gathered at the cemetery through his travels. That he had a nasty temper but a good heart. He shared a story about Uncle Edward to make everyone laugh, despite their sorrow. And then Daddy smiled, a soft, bittersweet curve of his mouth that Winry had seen so few times before. Mommy clutched her hand and Winry wondered what her mother knew. “What only a few of you are aware of is that Brother and I left behind our home at a very early age. We lost our mother when we were just kids, and we started wandering around the country, searching for something that could make us whole again. Through Brother’s attempts to help me, we were separated for a long time, years. We eventually found each other but in doing so, we left behind people we considered our family.

“Brother was strong, though. He told me that as long as we were together, we could face anything. And I believed him. Because of him, I studied medicine, became a medical researcher, found Janet.” He smiled at Mommy. “But Brother couldn’t settle down. He was always searching for something.

“It took years before he told me what he was searching for, though I had my suspicions. I wish I could say he found her.”

Holding up the book, Daddy turned it so he could look at the cover. “The older Brother got, the more he wanted to remember what we’d lost when we left home. As I said, there aren’t many people who knew all his secrets. One of them was he was an author, and he wrote the _Amestris_ series.”

The gasps and murmurs rose in surprise around Winry. Behind her, someone was asking something about Disney being rumored to have purchased the rights to make them into movies. She smiled faintly at that one.

Daddy had practice in pitching his voice to carry, and his words cut through the babble of the crowd. “Brother wrote the series to honor the people we once knew, who helped us out so much when we were kids. But he gave our characters a little different ending than what happened to us in real life.”

Winry nodded to herself. The older brother, Theodore, refused to leave Gwen behind any longer, and dragged her onto the train taking him away from Leisenburgh before proposing to her. The younger brother, Anthony, went off to study in the foreign land of Xing, and married a beautiful princess of that land. The series ended with the four of them at the beginning of another journey, this time to the west and Creata.

“Theodore married his Gwen, but Brother never got a chance to be with the girl he loved. That didn’t stop him from searching the whole world, looking for something that might lead him back to her.” Daddy took a deep breath, handing the book to Alfie. “When he left for England, Brother told me he thought he’d gotten some glimmer of hope. I hadn’t seen him so excited in years. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it, though – Brother was good at his secrets.” He had to pause to let the knowing laughter die down. “I don’t know what he found. His journal’s all in code – and I’ve never been able to decipher his codes. But her name was written on the last page.

“Whether he did find something, I guess that’ll be a mystery. But Brother crossed a world to find me. I can’t imagine he’d do any less to find her.” Daddy’s voice caught and he paused, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his eyes. “Thank each and every one of you for coming.”

X X X

The family waited until everyone left before paying their final respects. Charlie took Daddy and Mommy away first, and Winry realized, as she hugged her father, that he’d suddenly become a very old man. Winry, Richard and Edy waited on Joannie as she said her last goodbyes. She turned from the grave, offering her family a smile.

Edy riding in his arms, Richard asked, “What were you saying to Uncle Edward?” as they walked down the hill toward their waiting car.

Joannie wrapped her arm around Winry, giving her a squeeze. “I told the Lost Boy to fly back to Neverland, back to his Wendy.”

She squeezed her eyes shut briefly. “Joannie, you’re so close. Daddy never told you, I guess. “Her name was Winry Rockbell, and she made Uncle Edward’s arm and leg.

“Daddy named me after her.”

X X X


	5. Like Something Out of a Fairy Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mr. Elric always tells the best stories.

“Tell us a story!”

“Why do you want a story from me?”

“Because you tell the best ones!” Georgie plumped himself down on the lowest porch step looking up at Mr. Elric hopefully.

“Yeah!” Mary climbed up onto the steps to sit beside their friend.

“Tell us about the dragon!”

“No, no, tell us about Winry!”

“Winry’s just a girl.” Georgie stuck his tongue out at his little sister. “Who wants to hear about girls?”

With a swear word barely kept under his breath, Mr. Elric pulled Georgie and Mary apart. “If I tell you a story, will you stop arguing?” At their nods, he let them go. Once they were quiet, he said, “All right, once there were three friends, two boys who were brothers, and their best friend, a girl who could’ve been their sister….”

X X X

“What are you looking at, Mar?”

She started slightly, nearly dropping the book in her hand. “George, you startled me!” Smacking him in the arm with her clutch, she glared up at her taller brother.

“I can see that. What’s got you so rapt?” George leaned over, picking another copy of the book off the stack. “This looks like a children’s book.”

“I know, but something about it seems so familiar.” Mary turned to the frontpiece, studying the plateblock illustration of a blond girl standing with a black and white dog. The wistful expression on her face caught at Mary’s heart, and she wondered at the simplistic but lovely style that evoked such an emotion in her.

 _“Gwen of Amestris: Further Adventures of the Fullmetal Alchemist,_ ” George read aloud. “Tsk! Mary, your head’s still in the clouds. I’d thought you’d gotten past those Narnia and Oz books.”

Mary ignored him to flip through the pages, catching sight of another plateblock, this one in color, of the same girl, hugging a pair of young men with golden hair tight, while the dog danced around their feet. “Hush, George!” She ignored her brother’s good-natured teasing to turn to the front of the book, finding the dedication:

_So many of you have written to me about where I get my ideas for my stories. I’m not like Mr. Tolkein, who dreamed his world, though there are times when it seems like a fantasy to me. It’s been many years since I’ve walked in my Amestris, which no longer exists in this world. Sometimes, you can’t go home again, except in your dreams._

_This book is dedicated to Winry Rockbell. We miss you more than we can ever say._

Mary blinked. The name sounded familiar, like one she’d heard in a dream. Closing her eyes, she blocked out the store, George’s nattering, everything but a man’s voice, telling a story so fantastic, it could only be made up.

The book fell open to another plateblock, of the same girl, her hand resting on the shoulder of a young man. Mary’s breath caught.

Mr. Elric’s golden eyes stared out of the page at her.


	6. Anywhere But Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Edward just wants to go home.  
> Disclaimer: I totally own nothing of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt of 'Character Death' at the LJ comm, FMA Fic Contest. Consider that a warning.

I hate hospitals. 

I fucking hate them. The smell alone - I don’t care how much bleach they use, it never covers up the stink of shit and death. 

Peeling the plastic mask off my face, I shout, “Where’s my doctor?” 

The ward is quiet, too damned quiet, so all I hear are those stupid beeps and whooshes from the machines. I’m tied up to the damned things, a needle in my arm, the stupid mask over my face until I pulled it off. Monitors on my chest, reading out every heart beat. “Doctor!” I yell again, kicking my automail leg against the metal railings to make them ring. 

A nurse comes through the door, with red hair under her little cap and skin like cream, freckles dotting her face. She gives me that look, the one I know all too well. “Mr. Elric,” she says in that British accent of hers. 

I grin back at her. “Nurse Urquhart.” 

“The doctor’s on his rounds. He’ll be in to see you soon.” She frowns at me, waving a finger. “You know you’re supposed to wear the mask!” 

“Fuck that,” I tell her, and smile more when she glares at me for cursing. Good Catholic girls hate it when I curse. I’m supposed to be way too old for that sort of thing, I guess. Yeah, like she’s gonna stop me when no one else’s been able to all these years. “I wanna see the doctor.” I clatter my automail hand against the rails, too, and that makes her frown more. They really don’t know what to think of my arm and leg. I told ‘em it’s a special design of prosthetic, designed by a genius. I let ‘em think she’s in the United States, rather than anywhere in Europe, because I can’t tell ‘em where she really is. Hell, they’d think I was demented if I mentioned Amestris, and Winry.

Urquhart sniffs at me, and pushes a curl back behind her ear. “Dr. Hirsch will be by to see you later today,” she says, but she sighs, and adds, “Are you feeling all right?” 

“I’m fine,” I growl, “just want out of this bed.” Damn it, I was in the middle of research, and this stupid thing happened, and I got hauled off to the hospital. 

“Mr. Elric, you know you’re not well.” Urquhart picks up my chart and looks it over, and then stares at the monitors. Her lips tighten – never a good sign. “Your heart,” she says, and she says it so gently. 

“Nothing’s wrong with my heart,” I tell her, and thump my chest with my flesh hand. 

I’m lucky. Urquhart doesn’t laugh when I start coughing; she helps me get the mask in place instead. She runs her fingers over my hair to put the lacings back behind my ears. “Better?” she asks, tilting her head to the side, and I grumble. “Mr. Elric.” Urquhart smiles at me, and I glance away, toward the books I’d managed to cadge out of the library. Fairy tales; myths and legends. But there was something in them, something that led me to think maybe I could use them to find a way back home. “Can I get you one of them?” 

“Please,” I say, “and my notebook.” 

She hands me the biggest book – the one I’d been looking at when I collapsed at that library – and my notes. “Don’t rile yourself up,” she said, wagging a finger at me as she walks out the door. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I tell her, already opening the book to my marker. My notebook opens to the middle, and I hesitate for a second, staring at the illustration. It was in Al’s hand – I couldn’t draw to save my life, except for circles and diagrams – a drawing of Winry. Not my niece, but the woman she’d been named for, Winry looks over her shoulder at the viewer, a wrench in her hand. She’s a little surprised but happy, eyes wide and bright, and for a second, I think of Al’s great-granddaughter, Edy, and her bright blue eyes, and how much she reminds me of my oldest, dearest friend. 

I close my eyes for a second, and my heart jerks in response. Damn, that hurts, so much, like it had in the library. I shudder, my fingers convulsing around the page. No, no, not Winry’s drawing. I can’t destroy it. I force my hand away. Those stupid machine are screaming out sounds, and I just want them to fucking stop. I can’t think with them screeching, I just can’t, and I know there’s a way to get back home, I told Al, I told him I’d found the way, and this isn’t how I’m supposed to go, I’m supposed to go proud and strong and – 

Damn, it fucking _hurts_. My heart – something’s wrong – I remember that agony from the library, when I’d flipped to the right page and saw _Amestris_ \- not from any of Al’s drawings for my novels, but an actual drawing of Amestris he hadn’t penned – a transmutation circle, a mention of Xerxes, something about the Philosopher’s Stone. I remember because there were words I hadn’t expected to see – Central City, and Dietlinde Eckhart – and wonder again just who’d written this book. My lungs ache and my breath rattles in my lungs. Black spots dance in my sight and I hear someone shouting my name. 

“Urquhart?” I gasp, and look up at the touch of a hand on my shoulder. I can’t see anything except black – the dots, damn, they’re those fucking arms, those oily, black hands reaching for me. I want to scream but I can’t catch my breath and my heart’s nothing but a drum of pain inside my chest, like it’s gonna burst out of my chest. 

I’m dying, I realize, and maybe, maybe that’s enough – my soul will be free to go home, my soul might be able to find her, find Winry, oh, damn it, the pain. It’s like a lightning bolt that just keeps striking, and won’t stop, won’t stop, won’t – 

\- I scream, clutching at my chest as my heart explodes from within and – 

\- sheer _white_ and _agony_ and - 

“Ed?” 

Her voice is like a whisper, and I see blue eyes widening, and her mouth falling open and, for a second, before everything goes completely black, I sigh her name and know – 

_I’m home._

 


End file.
